[First Bite- Extremely Offensive Language](Rebel Rabble 1)
Oct 23, 2013 17:18:22 GMT -8
Mike Lohmann likes this
Post by Julie on Oct 23, 2013 17:18:22 GMT -8
See, here's the thing about growing up Anarch. Fuck, growing up in God Damn L-Fucking-A for that matter. Ya gotta do what you gotta to survive. If you think you got this dog eat dog shit down, try staying a while down there. Trying. I fucking triple dog dare you.
Anyway, there ain't much that comes of a kid growing up on the streets down there. I mean... I had a shit-hole of a place I could call home. But fuck that. I had Meggs, and Meggs had me, and together we had the fucking town. Not.... like, for real. But close enough.
Now, speaking of dog-eat-fucking-dog, it was the first time we were sent out to find grub that I really got a feel for shit. I mean, our guy that hooked us up with the grande deal of things really gave us a place. Made us fucking part of the family. An' now that we was all grown and shit, it was time to fucking see what we could do. Meanin', we wasn't about to get around and break a bunch of shit in the process. Just one particular little shit.
Between the two of us, we got it in mind that we'd find ourselves some little asshole corporate junkie. Only right seeing as he was a leach just as fucking much as we were. Except for the fact we ain't about to go ruin fucking the god damn U-S for shits and giggles. Ain't no way we was 'bout to go down that path. Fuck that shit.
Anyways, so we made our sweet way down Broadway o'er in Santa Monica. God damn filthy pigs tended to come to and fro from this place all the time. Then there was plenty of fucking homeless so it wouldn't be a problem if some asshole in the wrong place learned better. Happened all the fucking time.
So, I had a hold 'uh Meggs, strolling our happy fucking selves down the street. And not after five fucking minutes did we see the guy. Fucking nice-ass clothes, he probably ripped outta the hands of fucking starving sweat-shop kids' hands, getting into a fucking over-seas rendition of something that should run like a car. Too fucking dolled up to be a fucking car. Anyway. Getting distracted.
So I get it in my head and dig through what we got o'er in the alleyway. Fuck, there's always something. And what do I find? A fucking broken piece of wood- probably some fucker that'd broken one of the overpopulated “Vote for this Faggot” signs that were everywhere. An' not one of the little ones. People had a thing for these obnoxious fucking signs that overtook a place.
Club in hand, I made my happy way down the street to where Meggs had gotten the attention of this fucker. Guy was fucking yelling at him, telling him to get away- this, that, and some other shit. But fuck, like Meggs was gonna listen to that asshole. And like I was going to fucking let that piece of shit asshole corporate fucker talk to Meggs like that.
Coming up like I was the embodiment of this guys fucking bad day, I brought the beam up. Guy hardly turned around as I cracked his fucking head with the thing. God damn that was sweet. Asshole went down without so much as a fucking whimper like they usually did.
Meggs an' I looked at each other then. What the fuck were we supposed to do? It wasn't exactly nature yet to fucking munch on the fucking corporate douche. But Meggs, fucking love him, he fucking brought the guy up- setting him half way in the car. Grabbed his head and jerked it to the side- leavin' his neck all out in the open. God, I ain't gonna forget the pop that came outta that. Didn't kill the guy but I was fucking sure he'd feel that for a while. Just like he'd fucking feel for the blood we took outta him. Really wish I woulda been around to see this asshole getting' that feeling of wanting. Pretty sure it'd be his first time feelin' that shit. Gotta give it to 'im though.... He wasn't all that repulsive inside.
Ain't no one stick around for that fucking scene. The moment you see a guy getting his ass handed to him, you fucking book it. Get the hell outta there. And that's what anyone who had any sense had done. There was one guy- laying against the wall outside a fucking shop. Ain't no way he knew where the hell he was, there wasn't no way he'd care either way if he died or not. Meggs an' I passed him- Meggs didn't give a fuck. Didn't look at him- too damn pleased with our accomplishment. But for whatever fucking reason he fucking caught my eye. I didn' think it was possible the way I was at this point but that god damn guy made my gut turn. He was terrified of us- an' not the usual “oh shit they just beat the ever living hell outta that dude”. No... I fucking felt like a monster. Maybe I was. Maybe I am. Fuck, I don't know. But I felt like shit after that, though. Fuck.
Many of your past posts have been well-written but a bit necessarily abstract, for the sake of IC/OOC security. Reading a straight-forward tale in a decidedly distinctive voice is a nice change.